


The One with the Grilled Cheese Cure-All

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2437028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t take her into his arms and protect her so he flexed his proverbial muscle.  Caveman-esque, sure; Emily probably didn’t know nor care but the case was solved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One with the Grilled Cheese Cure-All

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [](http://kosmickway.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kosmickway.livejournal.com/)**kosmickway** ’s prompt for **“The one from Demonology with Emily talking to Aaron about her experience in Italy instead of Rossi.”** I could live with that. Spoilers for Demonology.
> 
> A long time ago, when I first starting writing CM fic and before _Demonology_ I gave Emily a past in the story [**The Hidden Storm**](http://community.livejournal.com/hotch_prentiss/15603.html). Then that episode came on and imagine my surprise when my fanon could be fit into her life pretty easily. You might want to read the first story first to understand why Emily says some of the things she does in this one. Or not, this cheese does stand alone as well.

Wiping her bloody nose, Emily stared up at the church. It was large, looming; almost scary. Her mind flashed back to all the communions she took in her life. Before, when she believed in the power of them and after when she choked on the bile of her hypocrisy. Was God forgiving as some said or vengeful as others postulated? Could she be loved after all she’d done and been through?

Did it matter? All of it was probably just another bullshit lie…Emily was used to those too. Unfortunately one had to die before they found out. Death made her think of Matthew. She probably hadn’t seen him in a decade, and the last time he was practically at rock bottom. It was hard to go back and remember him before the grip of drugs. He was bright, vibrant, and full of life. He always made her laugh and smile, even in the darkest times.

Why couldn’t she have saved him? If only John would’ve come to her sooner. As usual, he was too little, too late. He was saved from his sins and Matthew wasn’t. How could she believe in anything when something like that happened?

She stepped up the first step of the church when she heard her name. The voice was immediately recognizable. Even if it wasn't, there weren't many who let her last name slide so comfortably from their lips. Emily’s first thought was to ignore it and keep going. She stepped up another step.

“Prentiss,” Hotch got out of the SUV and walked onto the sidewalk. “I've been looking for you.”

“I thought you were taking Silvano to the airport.” Emily didn’t turn to look at him.

“I sent Rossi instead. He said you didn’t want a ride. I didn’t like the idea of you wandering around out here alone.”

“I'm fine.”

“Tell me that to my face.” Hotch replied.

When she turned around, she saw her Unit Chief’s expression change. It went from stern determination, which Morgan always called Hotch’s default face, to soft concern.

“Why is your nose bleeding?” He asked. “What happened to you?”

“I don't know. Hotch, I'm fine. Please just go home.”

“I need you to get in the car.”

“I need you to leave me alone.”

“Now isn’t the time to fight. Its cold out here and you're not properly dressed. Get in the car where it’s warm. I'm not leaving so you can either get in the car or we’re walking together.”

“Why are you doing this?” Emily asked. She was so damn tired, it took every ounce of strength she possessed not to fall against him and weep. That wasn’t going to happen in a million years. Rossi tried to get her to open up earlier, he almost had her, and she nearly said it but held back. Emily didn’t want to be judged on her past…she worked too hard to put all of that behind her.

“Because that’s what friends are for.” Hotch replied. “We’re off-duty; I'm Aaron and you're Emily.” He held out his hand. “It’s really cold out here. You need to warm up.”

Emily didn’t want to go with him; she didn’t care how cold it was. Actually, she did want to, more than anything. That’s what made it a bad idea. It always ended in heartache for Emily…she needed to protect her heart. She needed to protect herself. Aaron Hotchner would surely be the death of her; she knew it deep down in her belly. Despite all that, her heart, mind, and belly, Emily took his hand.

Hotch pulled her toward him, fighting and winning the battle not to hold her to him and never let go. He had no idea what he was really doing but this wouldn’t be the first time Hotch flew by the seat of his pants. It had been quite a while but surely he remembered. Objective number one was to get her warm. Still holding hands they walked together to the Chevy Suburban. Hotch held the door open and Emily slid into the passenger seat. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he took a handkerchief from his suit jacket pocket.

“Is it that bad?” Emily asked, taking it from him.

“No, but…keep it.”

She nodded. Hotch started the ignition and began the slow move down the street. DC got snow every winter, it averaged about 15”, but drivers always seemed shocked by it. This time of year it was quite rare. The days of rain, followed by rare snow, and the religious overtones of the case made Hotch feel uneasy. He would just drive 25 MPH; they would get there eventually. Not quite comfortable with the quiet, Hotch turned on the radio. Fleetwood Mac sang to them.

_Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions_  
I keep my visions to myself  
It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams and…  
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell  
Dreams of loneliness like a heartbeat drives you mad  
In the stillness of remembering what you had  
And what you lost…and what you had  
And what you lost 

There was so much she wanted to say but Emily remained quiet. She wasn’t sure if the right thing would come out and no matter what Hotch said, he was her Unit Chief. Sometimes Emily wished it was different but it wasn’t. The envelope had already been pushed too far today…Hotch sat her out. All she wanted to do was change into warm pajamas, slide under the covers, and forget the world for a few days.

He said he didn’t want to see her in the bullpen; that wasn’t gonna be a problem. As of now she was done. It was for the best. The world moved in slow motion outside the car window and in Emily’s mind. She sighed as Paula Cole replaced Fleetwood Mac on the radio. Emily leaned on the car window and let the lyrics run through her.

_So open up your morning light_  
And say a little prayer for I  
You know that if we are to stay alive  
Then see the peace in every eye  
She had two babies, one was six months one was three  
In the war of ‘44  
Every telephone ring, every heartbeat stinging  
When she thought it was God calling her  
Oh would her son grow to know his father? 

Hotch parked at the corner and cut the engine. Emily opened her eyes, looking at him. Then she looked out the window.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“I brought you back to my place. I hope you don’t mind.”

He wanted to ask her if she minded now? It was a bit late, typical Hotch. What if she did mind? She lived about two miles from there; more walking in the snow. All she wanted was to rest. Emily knew Hotch needed to be in a place where he would feel in control, which he wouldn’t be at The Watergate.

That was why he almost walked out on her the night both of their lives changed. Her question, what are you really doing here, made him turn around. She should've kept her mouth shut. Not answering, Emily unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car.

Hotch did the same, meeting Emily on the sidewalk. She looked exhausted; ready to fall over. He chastised himself for not getting to her earlier but the case got out of hand quickly. Going over his superior's head to the Vatican to pull the reins of a rogue priest would be a story for the grandkids. Hotch did it for Emily though it was Dave who pushed. He couldn’t take her into his arms and protect her so he flexed his proverbial muscle. Caveman-esque, sure; Emily probably didn’t know nor care but the case was solved.

Silvano was on his way back to Italy. Who knew if he would face the proper punishment but he was off of their soil. Hoping, wishing, for what Hotch wasn’t sure, he offered his arm. Emily took gentle hold of it as they walked down the snowy street. Inside, they walked down the hallway and Hotch pulled out his keys. Emily let go of him once they were inside. After a few moments of awkwardness, Hotch helped her out of her coat.

“You should get out of those wet clothes.” He said. “I keep comfy clothes in my top drawer…pick out whatever you want.”

Emily didn’t answer; she just went to the bedroom and closed the door. Hotch took off his jacket, his gun, and poured himself a stiff drink. Walking back to the kitchen, he turned on the radio. His favorite station played Neil Diamond while he filled the teakettle with water.

Hotch busied himself to stop his feet from walking back to the bedroom. If she didn’t want to be there then she would have said so. Emily never had a problem expressing herself. He’d been aggressive in getting her into the car but Hotch did want he felt he needed to. The past few days had been hell for her. There was only so much even the strongest soul could take.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch watched her emerge from the room. She was wearing his gray sweatpants and a Journey tee shirt. He’d slept in that shirt just a few nights before. Grabbing the big pillow from the couch, she hugged it and sat down. Emily closed her eyes and seemed to go to another place. A little rest would do her good…Hotch didn’t drag her there to talk her to death. Did he want her to get things off her chest?

Yes. Better out than in, that’s what Haley always told Jack. Still, how could he expect full disclosure and blind trust when those things weren't reciprocated? If it was going to be anyone, it would be Emily. Right now it couldn’t be anyone.

The smell coming from the kitchen was familiar but Emily was too exhausted to try to recall. She just closed her eyes and let the shackles fall from her wrists and ankles. She inhaled through her nose, exhaled through her mouth, and took in the sounds around her. The cars outside riding down the snowy street, the upstairs neighbors walking back and forth, The Turtles on the radio, the sizzle of a frying pan and the whistle of a teakettle. It felt so warm and comfortable in his relaxed clothes. That would probably be the closest Emily came to an embrace.

When she opened her eyes again, Hotch was looking at her. His arm rested across her knee, his chin on his arm. The look on his face was some kind of fascination or awe; like a child seeing something for the first time. His hazel eyes were curious.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” She asked.

“I made something for you.” He replied ignoring her question. “Let’s call it a cure all for bad days.”

“What is it?” Emily didn’t take her eyes off him.

“Grilled cheese and hot cocoa.”

“That’s a cure all for bad days?”

“It works for Jack.”

“Jack is three years old,” Emily reasoned. “I just bet it does.”

“Some days I think he has it more together than the rest of us. I want you to eat something, Emily. I know for the past few days that hasn’t been at the top of your priority list.”

It wasn’t, and Emily had no appetite. Her stomach growled though. It was better to eat a grilled cheese sandwich while it was hot so even if it wasn’t the best idea, Emily took the small plate into her lap. Hotch smiled when she took a small bite.

“How is it?” He asked.

“It’s good.”

She barely tasted it but starting a debate at this point was useless. She managed to eat half of it; Hotch finished the other half while she drank the cocoa.

“When I was a sophomore in college, my roommate Daniel was stabbed to death.” He said. “We were close friends and I took it hard. None of our lives were ever the same after it happened. Even though it was 25 years ago, I still think about him. I wonder what he would be like and how he would’ve changed the world.”

“What happened to him?” Emily asked.

“They were all out at this dive bar and a fight broke out. A woman got involved and some men were really roughing her up. Dan stepped in and he was stabbed to death. One wound but he bled out quickly. Our friends tried to help but it was over before it started.”

“It’s entirely my fault, Hotch, all of it. Matthew’s life was going along smoothly and I ruined everything. He should've never been my friend. His mother was right…I poisoned him. I'm bad news.”

“She was bitter, Emily, and she was wrong. You said yourself that Matthew was messed up.”

“That was my fault too.” She nearly shouted it but managed to check her tone. Now was not the time to lose it; not here and not with him. She got up from the couch and grabbed the box of Ziganov cigarettes from the coffee table. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Yes, but…” Hotch stood up. “I’ll open the window.” He cracked the big window, shivering as the whistling wind seeped through. It was still snowing but looked to be flurries now. “What happened to you two in Rome?”

“It was Verona.” Emily lit the clove, deeply inhaling the vanilla flavored poison into her lungs. “My parents dragged my sister and I all over the world doing their diplomatic work. When they divorced, I was ten years old. I wanted to go back to DC with my father, settle into some normalcy, but my mother wouldn’t hear of it. It became even more isolating when Julia left for Choate two years later. It was hard to make new friends, I was shy and quiet. By the time we got to Italy I was almost 15 and tired of being alone.

“Real Emily wasn’t doing it so I had to be someone else. I had to be witty, intriguing, flirty, and fun. I had to do something the other girls didn’t, you know. I drank, smoked, partied hard, and threw caution to the wind. Matthew saw through that shit and still wanted to be my friend. I hardly even knew who I was anymore but somehow he got down to the real Emily. He tried to pull me away from the schizophrenic lifestyle but it was no easy feat.”

“What about John Cooley?” Hotch asked. He hadn’t liked that guy from the word go. If he would’ve told the truth about Matthew’s death, the case would have been resolved a lot sooner.

“John was Matthew’s best friend. He was just like every other teenage boy whose parents had too much money and too much power. Matthew chose to see the best in him and for a while we were a threesome. One night, at a party, John took it too far and our friendship, such as it was, was irrevocably damaged. Matthew felt the strain but he never deserted me. We were always there for each other and no matter how down in the depths I got, he pulled me out. I always thought we’d be together…I was young and naïve.”

“Why did your mother take you to Verona, Emily?”

“We went on summer vacation. Her friends owned a villa there and we spent six weeks away. I was finally able to think straight, get to know myself again, and decided that I was not going to live my life the way I had been. It was a slow, miserable death. I missed Matthew but I knew he would be there for me when I got back…I was prepared to lose a lot of friends. While we were away, the host took a shine to me. I was flirty and adventurous; I liked older men. Maybe it was stab at my mother, I don’t know, but I told him to stop and that wasn’t his intent.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Hotch put his hands on her shoulders. When she looked at him, tears glistened in her eyes.

“He raped me, more than once. Here I was, giving it away all over Rome and he raped me.” Emily laughed but it was mirthless. A tear fell from her eye. “I didn’t know what to do, who to talk to…I felt like it was my fault. I didn’t find out I was pregnant until we were back in Rome for the school year. Who else was I going to turn to except Matthew? He wanted to ask a priest for advice first. God, I was so dumb to agree to that, but I trusted him and he trusted God.”

“What did the priest say?”

“What do you think?” She countered the question with one of her own. “His reaction angered Matthew, but more than that, he was so sad. Priests were supposed to help people; he thought he might even become one someday. Seeing the way I was treated, vilified, when what happened to me wasn’t my fault made him question everything. As scared as I was I told him I would go to the clinic alone. I didn’t want to put him through anymore pain; it was my problem.”

“That’s not the way it works when you love someone.”

“He stood by me through every moment and when we returned to church the next Sunday, we held hands. I held my head up high through an entire sermon on the Whore of Babylon and the temptation of sinful women on good men. Matthew never went back there and neither did I. I demanded my mother send me away…I started Hotchkiss after Christmas. I left that whole nightmare behind me, including Matthew. He started using, escaping, acting out, and no one helped him.”

“You can't blame yourself for that. You fought your demons and he let his consume him.” Hotch said. “That’s no one’s fault…maybe not even his.”

“I dragged him into the mess. I was ruining my life and instead destroyed his. Dammit! He was my best friend!” Emily walked away from Hotch, lighting another clove.

He didn’t know what to say and the silence was heavy. There wasn’t complete silence, James Taylor sang _Fire and Rain_ on the radio. Hotch wanted to reach out for her, hold on tight, and tell her that she’d done the best she could. The fact that Emily had emerged at all, let alone stronger and more determined, was a miracle. He knew that she was strong but had no idea how much until that moment.

She never wanted to be defined by something that happened over 20 years ago, at least not by him. Hotch would never be able to forget what he heard but would never judge her. What Emily had been through, mostly on her own, Hotch could not imagine. He’d fought so many of his own battles alone and couldn’t belittle them but to be violated…no one deserved that.

“I’ll put on a pot of coffee.” Hotch mumbled, making his way into the kitchen. This was definitely going to take more than cocoa with whipped cream.

Emily wanted to escape. She didn’t care if she had to climb out the window and make a run for it in her socked feet. Her wallet, ID, all of it was on Hotch’s bed. The room was too small for her to sneak in there, sneak out, and run for the hills. It had been a long time since Emily had to face this. Maybe it was better to do it head on.

“The person who killed Matthew will pay for it.” Hotch said, rejoining her in the living room. He leaned on the back of the couch.

“Yeah right.” Emily smirked. “The church, the clergy, is untouchable there. He’ll probably just be banished to some monastery. Matthew is dead and he’ll get to plant a vegetable garden and pray all day. I should've shot him.”

“You don’t mean that. Don’t talk like that.”

“Why not?” She asked.

“That kind of talk makes you no better than him.” Hotch replied. “You're much better than him, Emily.”

He took a deep breath. Pushing aside all the reasons why he shouldn’t, Hotch wrapped his arms around her from behind and held on tight. Emily tensed before her body relaxed against his. She wrapped her arms around his; their hearts and breath moving in sync. Hotch kissed her shoulder and her neck.

“Aaron Hotchner is a Journey fan,” Emily said, her voice wavering. “Who knew?”

“I think there may be one or two things you don’t know about me.” Hotch said. There were way more than that. Still, Emily put up her cheeky defense and he would play along. He knew she needed him to.

“I'm interested, tell me about it. I'm keeping the tee shirt by the way.”

“That’s one of my favorite tee shirts, Emily. The Raised on Radio tour was a big deal.”

“I hope you have really fond memories of that time. I'm taking the tee shirt.”

“It looks good on you.” He whispered in her ear. “My clothes look good on you.”

“We’re not supposed to be talking about me, you wanted to tell me about you. I want to hear about it.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” Emily turned in his arms, sliding her arms around his neck. “Just tell me anything Aaron, open the door and let me in. Talk to me.”

He kissed her, passionately, unable to help himself. Emily moaned and pulled him tighter to her. She had waited for so long, talked herself out of it, walked away, and then ran away. Yet here she was in his arms and he made the first move. No, this wasn’t about moves…this was something more.

It had been since New York, even more so after Colorado. While she could never call herself an expert at relationships, Emily had never danced around with a man as much as she had with Aaron Hotchner and gotten little to no results. Two steps forward, five steps back, from the moment she set foot in his office with her box and her hopes. While relishing the feeling of his lips, his arms, and his heartbeat, she couldn’t help but think what she was about to lose for the privilege.

“Coffee,” He murmured, his lips still on hers.

“That sounds good.”

“Coffee, conversation, but no more cloves…those are done for the night.”

“Yes, sir.” Emily broke away from his mouth but stayed in his arms. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. When you love someone, Emily…”

“Aaron…”

“We’ll have coffee and talk. I think it’s about time. Look what it took to make me see sense.”

Seeing was believing. How did Hotch think he would be able to keep hiding the way he felt about her? Drawn to her almost from the beginning, he hid behind his wife, his job, his team, his pain, and none of it worked. Emily cut through it like a machete, maybe without even realizing. They were so good together, out in the field. You couldn’t create that kind of chemistry.

It was only a matter of time before he started to see the woman she was as well as the FBI Agent. Once his eyes opened, Hotch couldn’t close them again. He could pretend, conceal, even lie, but the blinders were off. Tonight they had been thrown completely in the fire. She trusted him, trusted him enough with one of her deepest secrets, with her pain and despair.

Emily asked for nothing in return…she never had. Hotch wanted to give her everything anyway. He would start with coffee, Emily Prentiss loved coffee. And Aaron Hotchner loved Emily Prentiss.

***

  



End file.
